


Kozak Clan Chapter 1

by Morgue_142



Series: Kozak Clan [2]
Category: Kozak Clan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dark Comedy, Drama, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7224634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgue_142/pseuds/Morgue_142
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This sequence takes place two years after the Prologue. John Whalen (Meca One) is now a little more experienced and battle hardened. Now you'll be introduced to some of the other mercenaries in his group. There are 15 of them in total. They will each get plenty of "screen time" later, but for this one, I wanted to focus on Meca One a little more. But I can't wait to get to Connor Trimms (Exterminator) and Valuke (unofficially: Terminator).</p>
    </blockquote>





	Kozak Clan Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This sequence takes place two years after the Prologue. John Whalen (Meca One) is now a little more experienced and battle hardened. Now you'll be introduced to some of the other mercenaries in his group. There are 15 of them in total. They will each get plenty of "screen time" later, but for this one, I wanted to focus on Meca One a little more. But I can't wait to get to Connor Trimms (Exterminator) and Valuke (unofficially: Terminator).

Chapter 1

Current Day:

John groggily opened his eyes, the room’s dark atmosphere slowly fading in. He looked around for a moment before sitting up, his cot creaking slightly as he shifted his weight. He grasped the amulet around his neck and looked over it. A clear mineral, possibly a strengthened glass of some kind, inside was an Emperor Scorpion, frozen and safe from the sands of time. He gently rolled the amulet over to gaze at the back once more. It was damaged on the right side, what looked like heat exposure? Or a blade? Or both? He could not tell. But the damage had scraped off the last part of an inscription on the back. The word apparently translated to ‘Kozak-’. He had no honest idea what it meant or if that was even the proper translation. He sighed and stood up as he fixed his cot. The room was of decent size, about the space of an average living room he supposed. There was a long table at the end of the room furthest from the door with a single office chair, a few cabinets on the wall, and a single dresser with a mirror backboard slightly taller than himself. In the corner was a bathroom set-up, containing the basic necessities of a small shower, a common white toilet, and a deep sink. He had been sleeping in this room for a few months, though he still felt uncomfortable in it. The previous occupant had been his…superior, a large man with an unshakable joyous spirit, who wore the scars of conflict with pride and dignity. Someone John did not believe he deserved any recognition from. This man was the leader of the group Meca One had been a part of for almost three years. The other members referred to him as ‘Boss-Man’ claiming that none of them actually knew his real name. Meca One assumed that even a man like that had a past and secrets he did not wish to be revealed.

Boss-Man was killed in combat a few months ago, only weeks after he gave Meca One permission to lead the team if anything should happen to him. John had taken a brief period to get used to the idea, still unsure of the decision, but soon found that he was capable of command. Before his passing, Boss-Man asked Meca One to redesign the armor and possibly the structure of the group. So the new look that had been created was that of lightweight Oracide, sleek in shape, and crimson in color, durable but not impenetrable. Small portions of the wearer’s body would be covered such as the upper torso, the shins, and shoulders, so as not to restrict movement. And upon their faces they wore a sleek, oval-shaped mask of the same material, with a smooth, solid black paint, and differing appearances depending on the wearer; including varying configurations of short, fierce horns and dark red markings, matching the color of the armor. Along with the armor itself, Meca One recommended padded black jeans, long-sleeved shirts, and possibly a lined jacket, so as to be able to look more natural in public, and not draw attention to themselves outside of combat. Their weapons, including sidearms, heavy armaments, rifles, bladed melee items, and explosives, were set to match a similar color scheme. Boss-Man approved of the concept, viewing the idea as a way to inspire fear so the enemy may run instead of lose their lives in a pointless firefight.

And once the powerful man was gone, Meca One decided the team needed a new rally. So he named them the Kozak Clan. A brotherhood. A family. One he promised to keep this time. He then drew out plans for a new base of operations, located in the Galapagos Islands. A safe haven for his team, away from any country’s disputes. He had decided that the teams’ new insignia would be a Scorpion, preferably red, but he had no objections to variations of the color or design. He called favors from hidden friends across the world from his young days of traveling and training with Panther, his mentor. His contacts offered currency, equipment, building materials, and a few legal documents for the construction of the new facility. As well, he ordered that the team would now have an official set of code-names while they were on the job. Most agreed with the overall changes, though two or three seemed disgruntled by the idea of being dressed in ‘costumes’ during a conflict.

John exhaled as he stood up again, his cot now readily made, he slowly, and not quite gracefully, made his way to the door, he checked his appearance in the mirror as he passed it. He certainly looked as though he had just woken, with black hair frayed and spiked, his eyes still blood shot from the reading he had been doing the night before. He stopped to open the dresser and grabbed the first shirt on the stack. A gray T-shirt. He swapped it out and chose to stick with the gray sweatpants he already had. He combed his right hand through his hair, it was good enough. “Not like it matters.” he muttered to himself, as he dropped his hand back to his side and walked to the bathroom. He began brushing his teeth. When he finished he made his way for the door once more, “And into the social landscape,” he sighed and left the room.

He walked a solid pace, hands in his pockets down the lit hallway. Passing a few closed doors as he went, showing he was not the last one to drag himself out of bed. He tried to take note of which doors were open as he went. ‘Devastator, Incinerator, Ace,’ he paused for a moment at Operator’s door, which was still closed, then continued abruptly, ‘Destroyer, both of the twins (Eradicator and Eliminator), Demolisher, and Exterminator’…‘Well obviously, he’s always in his workshop on the other end of the warehouse, and he’s probably got Valuke with him, poor guy.’ …‘Annihilator, Eviscerator, and Decimator are out on missions right now, so if everyone is still in their rooms, then that’s all 15. Assuming Ace is in the makeshift hangar again, Devastator might be there too.’ He turned right, making a B-line straight for the custom mess hall.

He heard loud shouts and laughter before he even saw the doors to the mess hall. He passed into the wide open setting, with three long tables and a counter top that reached nearly the whole length of the room. The counter had about eight stools, mismatched and worn. The tables were roughly the same, battered and clearly old, but everything was well cleaned and properly maintained. Two of the stools were occupied by two girls, smiling and hardly breathing, the twins. One was broader and slightly taller, with a big grin that matched her outward personality, Abigail Truman (Eradicator). She was openly laughing for all to hear, while next to her sat her sister. Allison Truman (Eliminator) was small, cute, and shy, and with a little smile, she giggled quietly with a hand on her face. Both were 16 years old, shared short brunette hair, and apparently a similar choice of clothing; colorful jumpsuits, with a water bottle holder strapped around their waists. ‘Did they just get back from running? They don’t look tired or sweaty. Maybe they haven’t left yet?’

John turned to see a man, fully dressed in street attire, sitting in a large chair near the television set, bellowing in a great triumphant voice about some battle of old he had once been a part of. He waved a bottle of his choice alcohol and swung his arms through the air as he recounted his tale, the two sisters laughing along with him. Caleb Morisse (Destroyer) was in the second most obvious place John could imagine. The man had a bit of a drinking problem, not that he ever bothered anyone. He seemed happy to wash away his problems, but he always rose to the challenges of battle whether he was sober or not. He was only a few years older than John, who was 20 years old, but he showed so much wisdom in the stories he told. He was physically powerful, with the determination to rush an opponent through an open firefight. John walked along the back wall to the fridges, attempting not to interrupt them.

“Oh, good morning John,” squeaked a little voice, “I hope you slept well last night.” He stopped dead, then turned and smiled at Allison, “Thanks Ally, it was better than some. How about you?” Allison blushed a bit, “Oh, well, it was fine. Thank you, I-” she was sharply cut off by Abigail, “She was up all night watching sports videos. She just can’t get enough of those sweaty boys!”

“HEY, that’s n-not true! I just wanted to see how they trained and got tougher.” Allison shrunk back into her stool. Caleb interjected with a remark, “Yeah? And I watch anime for the plot.” Which couldn’t help but catch a laugh from John. He turned back to Allison, “Ignore them. One day you’ll be stronger than both of them combined, right?” She began to smile again, “I hope so.”

John then grabbed a raw carrot and an aluminum can of soda from the fridge. He tried to pay attention to the television and eat quietly as the others continued talking to each other. There were newscaster speaking rapidly about growing conflict in Europe and North Africa. Something about new mechanical infantry being deployed across those regions. “Robot soldiers are bad for business in our line of work.” John muttered to himself. He broke his concentration, “Hey, Caleb, where’s Julius? He’s up, isn’t he?” he asked as Caleb poured a new drink into a mug, discarding his original bottle. Caleb took a moment to ponder, and then replied, “Maybe outside with the vehicles? If not then he’s gotta be in the dojo.” John considered the response and chose to take the guess that Julius was in the dojo, and as such he left the mess hall and made his way past the open area of the warehouse to an attached room with a cardboard sign reading ‘Dojo’ above the doorway. He double-checked to make sure he had no shoes on as a force of habit; he entered the large open room.

Inside was a slightly shorter, thinner, and younger man, with a fire in his eyes, and a youthful smirk on his cheek, viciously hitting a large foam target with no real strategy or technique. John moved along the side of the room again, trying to avoid being noticed. He watched and waited. Finally, he stepped forward, “You could have chosen to go bother Connor and Valuke in their workshop for a new upgrade on your flamethrower,” Julius Sears (Incinerator) slowed his breathing and turned around. John continued, “But you chose to come in here and upgrade your physical body instead? Good job. You want a quick spar?”

Julius’ face lit up, the sweat nearly vanishing as he felt rejuvenated, “Of course. Always ready for it!” They took their places on the mat. But before they began Abigail and another woman entered the door. The other woman, Susan Moore (Demolisher), had her arms folded, looking disgruntled as normal, her frame much bigger than Abigail’s. She was the one who disagreed the most with Boss-Man’s decision for Meca One to lead the team. Aside from Scar, who had recently left the Kozak Clan entirely. He had refused to even accept the new ‘code names’ as part of Meca One’s change in policy. John held no grudge, though it irritated him, he understood why Alex and Scar were so argumentative. They and Boss-Man had been friends for years, and to lose a comrade that close will take an adjustment period longer than the rest of the team.

“Oh, we just got front row seats to a beat down!” Abigail cheered. John grinned in acknowledgement, but refused to look away from his opponent. Julius glanced continuously at the door, ‘Stay focused. Respect the fight.’ John could not help but be agitated by the kid’s lack of any real combat training. ‘Yet he can somehow always walk out of an inferno? Beginners’ luck doesn’t even come close to this…’ They readied themselves and locked eyes. Adrenaline slowly releasing into their blood. Their heartbeats slowing to a murmur in their chests. Then, they began.

Julius moved first, stepping to the left and jumping to the right, attempting to confuse his opponent. He swung his right leg back, but lunged his left fist forward, aiming directly for a headshot. ‘Good. At least he’s been paying attention.’ John caught the first swipe between his right elbow. Then forcing the momentum to carry Julius straight to the ground. Julius hurt his pride but his spirit was still flaming. He rolled out and hopped to his feet, though he was caught off balance and a swift left kick from John sent him immediately rolling backwards. He pulled himself up to see John rushing forward. Julius threw his right fist out in front of him. John leapt over it and cleanly smacked him in the side of the head with his left forearm. Toppling the young man over, john landed and swung his left leg around, striking Julius square in the spine, sending him forward on his knees. Julius jumped back to his feet, as though the impact was fueling him, and flailed his arms sporadically as he charged his opponent. John was caught off guard enough to trip and catch one fist to the abdomen and another to the chin. He then regained enough footing to block the flurry. As he ducked from a particularly powerful straight jab, he took the opening provided and, with one smooth motion, lodged his left leg behind Julius’ right, and planted his right fist firmly into Julius’ center gut. As Julius launched backwards, he saw only the flashes of ceiling lights passing overhead. He smashed to the ground, rolled onto his side, and reluctantly stood back up.

“Ouch.” He spat, new fury in his eyes. He intended no real harm to his teammate, though he lost himself to the fight at times. He resumed his battle stance. John noticed him swaying as he tried to hold steady. This time, John moved first.

He moved up the middle, assuming Julius was having trouble seeing straight, this was his best option. Suddenly, Julius threw his arm out, hand wide open, a tiny object bounced off John’s right shoulder. Noise. So much noise. Too much noise. All of the noise………now, no noise. He was holding his ears, standing wide open. Julius smashed his right elbow directly into John’s stomach, throwing him completely off balance, following with a firm spin kick to the side of the head. John laughed through the pain, “Now you got it! Let’s keep it interesting!” He stood up straight, “You clever little bitch. Do you always have firecrackers in your pockets?” John was now realizing how excited he was to see some potential in his friend. “Only when I’m expecting some asshole to try to kill me.” Julius began hopping up and down in place. “Ever heard of wishful thinking, buddy? Let’s try again.” John readied himself again.

Abigail and Susan had been mostly silent until the firecracker went off. Now they openly laughed with two others who slinked into the doorway. One was clearly Matthew Fergus (Devastator), as he was the largest of the entire team. A muscle-bound colossus of a man, he was bigger than their smallest vehicles. As well, he was known to use them for weights while lifting in the garage. He was an agreeable kind of person, though not the ‘lovable giant’ type, John supposed, as he was prone to extreme aggressiveness during battle.

John was too enveloped in the fight to notice who the other figure was, he needed to focus. Julius leapt forward, smashing his fists into John’s arms as he blocked the attack. John took advantage of the moment to sweep his opponent’s left leg, in the process he grabbed hold of both his wrists as well. He pulled Julius’ arms down suddenly, and slammed his right knee into Julius’ chin. The boy stumbled and tried to pull back to steady himself, holding his jaw tightly, gritting his teeth through the pain. In an attempt to slow the assault, he flung his left leg outward, only to have John catch it by the ankle, pull him closer, and force him off balance. John spun quickly before Julius could reposition himself, and struck him dead center in the nose with his left elbow. Julius collapsed backwards. As he lay on the ground, the gathered spectators cheered. John attempted to help pull his sparring partner from the ground, but Julius waved him off, and rolled off the mat to lie on the floor a little longer. “Isht’s oskay. Jusht gonna sit fur a minute.” he groaned. John congratulated him for the good fight, “Keep those firecrackers handy and you’ll probably have a higher kill count than Matt. Damn, those things sting.”  
John sat on the floor next to him, as the crowd began to shift back into the warehouse. He now saw who the second newcomer was, as she was the only one still in the dojo with them. Alyssa Silver (Operator). She bowed, stepped onto the mat, and approached John, “You feel up for another match?” John half scoffed, half chuckled, rolling his eyes, and pulled himself up to his feet. He patted Julius on the knee as he rose. “It’s ok, buddy. Alyssa’s about to avenge you.” A groan of laughter was his reply, “Ohh, go to Hell…”  
John readied himself once more, this time his heartbeat continued to quicken. He tried to slow it down. It kept going. He tried to slow his breathing. But his heart kept beating rapidly. He glanced at his new challenger, trying not to make eye contact. She was shorter than he was, a few inches only. She was roughly 5’ 9”, and he was 6’ even. She had sharp green eyes, brightly glowing almost. Long, burgundy, curled hair that reached her shoulder blades. Smooth facial features, a small slightly pointed nose. She was thin, though still strong. She carried a cheerful smile, she almost always did. He appreciated that. He looked her up and down. Scanning for weaknesses or flaws…

‘There aren’t any.’ he thought, ‘That’s the whole problem.’ He did and didn’t enjoy her presence. She made him feel…distracted. He attempted to force the thought from his mind and focus on the coming fight. He couldn’t. Instead he decided to roll onward anyway. “Alright,” he spoke calmly, “let’s go.”

She hopped in place for a moment, and began stepping to the right, circling him as he stepped into the center of the mat. “That’s a pretty dumb move to make so early.” She said, with a question implied. John only grinned. She swung her right leg at him, he blocked. She recoiled with a quick strike to the center of his chest with her left hand, he blocked. She then rolled under a kick from his left leg, and landed a solid blow to his kidney. He stumbled and swung around, full force tackling her to the ground. They each rolled away, and regained their footing. They rushed each other, she ducked under a right straight jab, he side-stepped a right-handed uppercut. She grabbed his arm and pulled it away to slam a foot into his stomach. He gasped and pulled her left foot into the air, sending her upside-down onto the ground. She jumped back immediately and tackled him. He was too off balance to dodge or block. She picked herself up and kicked him in the side with her left leg as he stood up. He caught her leg under his right arm. She smiled, threw her right leg over his shoulder, and grabbed his left arm tightly with both arms. He now had no way of prying her off. He tilted backwards as she forced him off balance. She used her full weight to rip him forward and hit the mat. He impacted hard on his back, she laid there next to him, still half wrapping him with her leg. They laid for several moments.  
John breathed in deeply. Then exhaled. Alyssa sat up excitedly and looked down at him, “Signature. Move.” she said cheerfully. He sighed looking away from her. Then turning and smiling at her he replied, “Works every time, doesn’t it?” She pulled her leg up and sat on her knees, “Only against the dangerous ones. Average idiots never catch my leg. Kinda ruins the set-up.” John sat up holding his shoulder. “Doesn’t mean it’s not something to keep in your arsenal. Right next to unreasonable beauty and a perfect smile.” “Smooth. Smartass.” She hit him in the shoulder, he winced a little, smiling the whole time. She stood up, and walked over to Julius, who was sitting up and grinning uncontrollably. She kicked him in the leg and left the dojo.

John rose to his feet. “You let her win. Wish I had your fancy as much as she does.” Julius laughed aloud. “I didn’t LET her win. Sure, I didn’t press my offensive. But once she had me locked, there was nothing I could do without actually hurting her.” John replied. Julius sat and stared in disbelief at John, nose dripping blood, eyes unblinking until John looked at him. After a few moments of silence, John glanced over at Julius’ malicious gaze. “What?” he plied confusedly. Julius continued to stare at him, blood slowly forming a puddle in front of him…


End file.
